


Bloom

by unknownone



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Bottom Harry, Drug Abuse, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Famous Niall Horan, Famous Zayn Malik, M/M, Marriage, Minor Gigi Hadid/Zayn Malik, Non-Famous Harry, Non-Famous Liam Payne, Non-Famous Louis Tomlinson, Not Beta Read, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Top Zayn Malik
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:55:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23605645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unknownone/pseuds/unknownone
Summary: When he was a boy, he pricked his finger trying to feel a rose bush. The first drop of crimson fell onto the delicate petals of a single rose. It taught him a valuable lesson that day; that the most beautiful things can sometimes bring us pain.
Relationships: Gigi Hadid/Zayn Malik, Liam Payne/Louis Tomlinson, Zayn Malik/Harry Styles
Comments: 1
Kudos: 14





	Bloom

**Author's Note:**

> Super unedited, spur of the moment. It's an idea that's been rattling around in my brain for awhile. I apologize for any mistakes ahead of time. Also, Zarry will never die. 
> 
> Let me know what you think.

When he was a boy, he pricked his finger trying to feel a rose bush. The first drop of crimson fell onto the delicate petals of a single rose. It taught him a valuable lesson that day; that the most beautiful things can sometimes bring us pain. It was a lesson he was taught over the years, and it began when a black haired boy reached for his injured hand without any preamble. He was wise beyond his years in scolding the curly haired boy. “It’s dangerous to touch,” he said sucking his teeth as he wiped the boy’s blood finger on the front of his white shirt.”It’s okay, I can fix it.” So, it began that summer day with a ten year old Harry, who was too naive about the world, and a twelve year old Zayn, who couldn’t help but be drawn to the clumsiness that is Harry Styles. The dynamic was the same throughout the early years, Zayn was always there to catch Harry when he fell. He poured peroxide on his knees when Harry fell off of a neighbor kids motorbike. He stayed by his side when he got pneumonia one winter, even though everyone told him he should go home and rest. He placed a guiding hand on the small of Harry’s back on the first day of high school when Harry was so nervous he thought he might puke. He placed the ring softly on the finger beside Harry’s pinky after prom night, when they had ditched half way. When Zayn brought him back to the rose bush they had met at. He wiped the tears off Harry’s cheeks with steady hands as they stood in the middle of their first apartment. When Zayn had begun university, and Harry his senior year of high school.  
He guarded Harry’s slender frame from the biting wind the night he packed up his car. He kissed his forehead with tears in his eyes as he walked to the driver seat. Zayn had been Harry’s guide through the world, and now he had to do it without him. It killed him as he watched Zayn drive away that cold fall night, and the next week, the rose bush had died. Harry lied away for weeks waiting for a call to come in, and they did, for a while. The I love you’s, and the I miss you’s, started to come far and few between. Then, for years there was nothing. 

Harry awoke at the end of three years without him, and found articles in the news, ‘Zayn Malik, Hollywood’s Favorite Hunk to Play Blade Drake In Hot New Film.’ His face was plastered all over the internet, but he didn’t look familiar. His eyes were not the same honey brown. They seemed sunken in. His normally strong demeanor seemed weakened. He was sporting a full beard, and it suited him, but it wasn’t his Zayn, not anymore. So, Harry clicked off the article, and got ready for school. He was working on a research project, hired by the university he was attending. Harry was always good with research. It gave him satisfaction to come to a conclusion, and be able to share his knowledge with the world. He was on the road to becoming a professor, and he was starting to get happy again. It took him a couple minutes to peel his body out of the too big bed, and into the small bathroom. He had changed this year, too. His hair had grown past his ears, and curled like it always had, but it felt less tame. His boyish features had sharpened, and his eyes had somewhat dulled over the past year. He was finding himself in a large world alone, and as he washed his face he thought, Today will be good. Harry brushed his pearly teeth, and left the bathroom, the rose ring dangled above his heart from the chain he hung it on the week after the calls stopped. 

“Why, if it isn’t the super geek, Harry Styles!” Louis exclaimed, ruffling his fingers through Harry’s hair, succeeding in annoying the green eyed man. “Hello, Lewis,” Harry drawled out, plopping himself down beside the feather haired individual. “What did I miss?” he asked, “Oh, nothing, we are studying bio molecules and their monomers! We get to write a full report on it, actually,” Louis said, feigning excitement. Harry on the other hand was actually excited about it. He wouldn’t give Louis extra flame to add to the fire, so instead he opened his laptop, and got to work. It was quiet in the room for a while, and when Louis was certain everyone was distracted, his eyes found Harry’s. “I saw the article,” was all he said, and Harry shrugged his shoulders, trying to show him that he wasn’t much interested in the conversation. “I know you say it too, and I have to say, the fucker looks like shit.” Harry’s eyebrows shot up a little bit at his tone, and harsh words, and he chuckled a sad little chuckle. “I guess he does, maybe fame doesn’t agree with him all that well.” Harry said.

“Mate, he looks like a walking zombie from that show, or some shit. Did you hear they cast him in that new movie? He’s been everywhere the last few years.” Harry closed his eyes, and let a small sigh escape his plump lips, “I guess so,``''Mr. Malik, Mr. Tomlinson, something you’d like to share?” “It’s Styles, sir,” Harry mumbles, hating the feeling of all eyes on him. Another thing that had happened was, he hadn’t gotten divorced, and the university used his married name. He never got around to changing it, but usually the professors didn’t call him by it, after three years many of them had grown to know. And love Harry. They understood his reasons for privacy. The rest of the time went by rather quickly, Harry engrossed himself in his studies, and focused on writing the best damn research paper he could. He was preparing for his upcoming final thesis in a few months, and then he would have his degree. 

Louis found him after, and steered Harry to the small cafe on campus. Louis was a good three inches shorter than Harry, but he had the strength Harry lacked. So, that’s how it went with Louis sitting Harry at a booth, and ordering them both a cup of tea.”I know it’s not easy for you Harry, but if you just let me get you a hot ass date-” Harry interrupted him, “Lou, I’ve already been on three of your blind dates, and ended up with a stalker, and a guy who believes if I open my third eye the aliens will speak to me,” Harry says pointedly, giving the man across from him the best glare he could muster up. Louis ignored him, “That’s to be expected, my dear, sweet, naive baby. You have to play the field, you deserve it.” Harry sipped the tea, staring down into the murky depths of the cup. “You aren’t going to stop unless I agree, will you?” Louis’ blue eyes were shining at the signs of defeat. Typical. “Of course not, my sweet bambi boy. Tonight at seven you’re meeting Kaleb at The Spicy Dancer.” Harry rolled his eyes, of course Louis had already set him up. At a club no less.  
\  
It was three in the afternoon when Harry got home, so he spent an hour tidying the apartment, and then he cooked himself dinner. Harry loved to cook, but he never could get the grasp of cooking for one. He always ended up with way too much, which was the case tonight as he packed pasta in a tupperware container. He would bring it to Louis tomorrow for him and Liam. Louis was an atrocious cook and everyone who had known him more than a week had known that. He almost burned his parent’s house down a few times. Harry spent the last couple hours showering, and getting ready for his forced date. He settled on his signature dark skinny jeans and a sheer button up black shirt adorned with deep red roses up both sleeves. It was one of the only club appropriate things that he owned. With a roll of his eyes, and a flash of green in the mirror, he was off. 

The club was already crowded when he arrived, and the bouncer had led him straight in. He had known him for all the times he came here to drink his pain away in the years previous. He smiled at the man, and made his way inside the club. His nostrals were immediatly filled with the smell of sex, and smoke. He made his way to the bar, and ordered a mimosa, not really club kinda drink, but his favorite nonetheless. His eyes scanned the crowd of people, looking for someone that could match the description of his ‘date,’ when a hand tapped him on the shoulder. “You’re Harry?” The man asked, his voice was rough, and deep. He was tall, and his hair was sandy blonde. He reminded Harry of California. He nodded, and forced a dimpled smile. “Yeah, you must be Kaleb, nice to meet you.” Harry answered politely. “You’re even prettier than your pictures,” Kaleb nearly purred it out, and then he ordered Harry another drink. He listened to the sandy guy talk about his job, and how he had just gotten out of a bad marriage, and then to Harry’s horror, about four drinks in, the man started crying about his ex. Now, Harry was a very considerate human being, so he rubbed the guy’s back, and ordered him a cab before leaving himself.  
He was very tipsy, but his apartment wasn’t far, and after living there for five years, he knew the way like the back of his hand. In his drunken stupor he thought about how he was going to rip Louis a new one tomorrow, and then he passed a dried out rose bush sitting to his side. He wasn’t going to stop this time. He didn’t care, so he continued on, and as he approached his apartment complex, he got a text on his phone.  
Unknown Number: Thx for the g8 time harry - Kaleb

Harry didn’t feel like writing anything out, so he sent a smiley emoji as he tripped up the stairs to the lobby doors. He started feeling tired as soon as he entered the warm lobby, his eyes were drooping slightly, and he made it to the elevator basically on muscle memory alone. Absentmindedly he clicked the number three, and shuddered when the elevator lurched upwards. He always hated the feeling it gave him in his stomach. He felt like he was on the homestretch running third base as he slid the key in the lock as he had a million times before. The open of the door had him falling through it. Into the sanctuary of his own home. “Finally,” he slurred to himself, tossing his keys into the ceramic bowl he had gotten at a nifty hippie store three blocks over. It was a deep yellow, and it had a sun painted on it. He fell in love with it immediately. Everything was as it should be, until he entered his living room, and heard a voice he thought he’d never have to hear again.  
“You really should’ve changed the locks, Haz.”


End file.
